Forts, Snowballs, and the High King's Chambers
by Rowena Stark
Summary: "I just feel the need to point out that none of this would have happened if you had woken up Peter when I told you to," said Edmund. One-shot


_A/N This was written for a Secret Santa exchange over at NFFR and is a gift for Elissa Penworthy with hopes that it amused her half as much as it did me while writting =)_

**Forts, Snowballs, and the High King's Chambers**

_Golden Age: Year 2_

Lucy burst through her sister's chamber's door and jumped onto the soft bed with an excited, but groggy yell.

"Susan wake up! Susan wake up! It snowed during the night, and _everything_ is covered! Come on, Su, wake up!" she shouted, shaking Susan, while jumping up and down on her knees.

After several moments – Susan was always a heavy sleeper – the older girl rolled over and groaned.

"What's happening?" the older girl asked, still in dream land.

"It's snowing Su! There is snow on the ground! Come look." Lucy dragged a sleepy Susan out from under her embroidered quilt, toward the stained glass window. Susan peered through one of the daffodils on the glass to see that, yes it was, indeed, a blizzard outside. Snow covered every single visible inch, turning the usual bright and colorful landscape into a large expanse of white.

Albeit, a_ beautiful _large expanse of white.

Susan watched the falling snowflakes dance around in the wind, before smiling sleepily at her beaming younger sister. She rubbed her eyes before saying,

"Looks like we know what to do today. Let's go wake the boys."

* * *

"But Lu it's _cold_," complained Edmund, wrapping his arms around himself as he shivered.

"That's what this is for, silly," retorted Lucy, wrapping a long, red scarf around his neck.

He made the scarf looser and glanced at it as if it was a disease.

"It's itchy," he stated. "Is it Mr. Tumnus's? He's one for itchy scarves."

Lucy scowled at him but neither confirmed nor denied his accusation. Instead, she pulled on a pair of mittens that Mrs. Beaver made, and wrapped a thick cloak around herself. Just when the siblings were thinking about going to look for the older two, Susan walked in, while placing a blue hat (yet another one of Mrs. Beaver's creations) over her dark hair.

"Where's Peter?" Lucy asked, noticing the oldest Pevensie did not follow her sister in.

"Sleeping," replied Susan swiftly. "Now let's go before it stops snowing."

"Like _that's_ going to happen anytime soon," said Edmund, glancing out of his window at the falling snow. "I can wake him if you don't want to. He should go outside; he's been stuck behind his desk all month."

"Which is exactly why we should let him sleep," responded Susan as she opened the heavy door.

"So he can just wake up and start working himself to death all over again."

"That's precisely _why _he needs his sleep – so he doesn't end up accidentally killing himself!"

_Only Peter could accidentally kill himself with work_, Lucy thought as she watched the exchange.

"Well, he'd get plenty of sleep _then_**,** now wouldn't he?" Edmund retorted.

At Susan's furious expression, Lucy grabbed both oftheir hands and lead them out of the room.

"Susan's right, we should go before it stops snowing," she said as they walked down the corridor. "Besides we can always get him later."

"Thank you Lucy," said Susan graciously. "I'm glad _one_ of us sees sense."

"I do see sense, it's just a different sort-of sense than you see." Then in a lower tone. "A _better_ sort-of sense."

Susan smacked him over the head, causing his striped hat to fall off. He stared down at it, before looking at his older sister with an "_oh-so-serious_" expression.

"_That_," he said solemnly, "was quite rude Susan. You should apologize."

"Oh stuff it Ed," Susan with purposeful grace stepped over the hat and walked outside into the snow.

"That was not an apology," he called back at her, but she either ignored him or was too far away to hear him. Lucy was inclined to think the former.

"Honestly, winter comes and all manners just disappear," he said, picking up his hat and shaking any excess dirt off it.

"I think she's just cranky because I jumped on her bed to wake her up," said Lucy thoughtfully.

"Like the way you did for me?"

Lucy nodded.

Edmund paused.

"Yes, that probably is why."

Lucy shoved him playfully.

"Race you!"

The two ran outside toward their sister and the snow.

* * *

The three spent the entire morning outside. After the race, which Lucy won**,** though Edmund assured her he let her do so, the siblings decided to make a snowman. They each made a section – Susan the bottom, Edmund the middle, and Lucy the head – and searched for peddles to use for the eyes and mouth and stray twigs for the arms. Lucy carefully ripped off a button from her dress to use for the nose, and Edmund was more than happy to forgo his itchy scarf but refused to relinquish his hat. Susan gave up hers, and pulled up her cloak's hood to use, but the wind proceeded to continually blow it down, so she just left it there. The finished product was rather lopsided and unsymmetrical, but Lucy loved it, Susan called it a success, and Edmund deemed it the best snowman from Cair Paravel to Anvard. Lucy, then, decided that he looked rather lonely, and started to make snow dogs to keep it company, using the castle Dogs as models (after politely asking them, of course). Susan busied herself with snow angels, a personal favorite of hers, and Edmund began building something that Lucy decided she was better off not knowing.

Susan eventually decided it was time to go wake Peter, which Edmund wholeheartedly agreed with. He offered to help wake him, but Susan, noticing the smirk playing around his mouth, declined his offer saying she could easily wake Peter herself, thank you very much. She ran back inside, and Lucy continued to work on her snow animals; by now she grew tired of making dogs and started sculpting cats, rats, and rabbits. Using one of the twigs they had collected for the snowman, but hadn't used, the girl carefully carved the features in the mound of snow. She would have liked to make a snow Aslan, but that proved to be far beyond her abilities. Besides, Lucy just _knew_ she would never have gotten the features right anyway. She finished off her latest snow animal, and critically looked at its face. Blech! With the palm of her hand she quickly, but carefully rubbed the features away. No, no it was _all_ wrong. She stared at the white pile in front of her, then shut her eyes trying to picture Tram, Cair's cook, who was a rat and Lucy's friend. Just when she was about to start drawing again, she felt something hit her side, and she fell over, the snow covering her. Lucy stood up, glaring toward her brother, knowing it was him who threw it.

"_That_," she said, mimicking his tone from earlier that day, "was quite rude Edmund. You should apologize."

Edmund peeked over the fort he was building – it was quite clearly a fort now – and raised his eyebrows.

"_What_ are you talking about?" he inquired.

"You threw a snowball at me."

"I did no such thing."

"Yes you did!"

"No I didn't."

"Yes you did too!"

"No I did not!"

Lucy crossed her arms, pouted, and sat back down. It was pointless to argue with Edmund when he refused to confess to something. After some time where she glared at Edmund who smiled and waved at her _just _to annoy her she knew, Lucy went back to her rat. The body was as good as it was going to get, but the head and tail bothered her. The tail would be easier to fix, she decided, as she crawled on all fours to the back of her rat. She was about to begin to fix it when she received a nice helping of snow in her face. Arg! Lucy wiped the snow away, and shivering as she felt a droplet fall down her back.

"_Edmund!_" she shouted.

He peeked up again, the face of innocence.

"Yes?" he asked. It seemed her red, glaring, and wet face was enough answer for him, for he continued without her saying anything. "It's not _me. _Someone's throwing stuff."

"Then why aren't you getting hit?" she asked, crossing her thin arms.

"Because I have my trusty fort with me. There have been attempts, but _I_, unlike you, don't see any reason to blame innocent bystanders, who _clearly_ aren't the culprits."

"How do you know that I wasn't the one throwing them?"

"Because the snowballs were coming in completely opposite direction."

Oh. Lucy felt herself go red, and she was glad that it was nearly unnoticeable on her already red face.

Another snowball flew toward her, and Lucy moved out of the way.

"Quick Lu, jump in," said Ed, pulling her over the edge of his fort. They ducked behind the edge, waiting for another snowball to fly by.

"It's probably Su and Peter," continued Edmund in whispers. "I've been wondering where they've been."

"Why are you whispering?"

"It seems like a whispering type of situation," he whispered.

"You're being ridiculous."

"Well you're whispering too!"

"Shh!"

"Don't **'**shh**'** me," said Edmund in an annoyed tone.

"I heard something."

"Oh."

They peeked over the top of the fort and gazed across the lawn. The Dogs that had kept Lucy company had gone home long before, and the area was empty safe for them. It was almost eerie.

"Where is everyone?" Lucy wondered aloud noticing how empty and silent it was.

"Peter probably convinced everyone to stay away from here to disconcert us **–** well you."

Lucy shoved him with her elbow and saw yet another snowball flying toward them. She pulled Edmund away from it.

"This is getting ridiculous," he stated standing up and looking in the direction the snowball had come from. Lucy expected him to shout, or laugh, or both, so what he did instead was doubly unexpected. He sank back down to the ground, and pulled her down with him, covering her mouth. She was about the bite or lick his palm, when she noticed his expression.

Edmund looked worried.

He shook his pointer finger against his mouth, signaling her to be quiet. She frowned, not understanding his expression. Edmund let go of her and gestured with his head the direction the snowball came from. She was planning on standing up to get a better view, but Edmund pushed her back down with a glare. Getting the message, Lucy kept her head low, and looked.

Cair Paravel was a large place and, even after a year living there, Lucy still got lost occasionally. But Lucy would know that place even in her sleep. It was Peter's chambers, with a dark purple sheet over the window.

The wind gusted across the lawn, blowing snow around, but Lucy's shiver had nothing to do with that.

She placed her hands on top of the fort, about to start sprinting toward Peter's room, when Edmund pulled her back.

"Don't," he hissed. "We need a plan."

"They could be hurt," she hissed back, refusing to voice the _or worse_ that was filling her mind. "We don't know what's in there."

"_Exactly_."

They glared at each other.

When the siblings had first moved into Cair Paravel, everyone wanted everything to the four's likening. Every single thing. One of those things was curtains. They were in the midst of deciding which ones for all of them – well Susan and Peter were deciding, Edmund and Lucy could not have cared any less– when, that afternoon, Susan was attacked in her chambers by one of the remaining White Witch's followers. She managed to let her siblings know something was amiss by throwing a sheet out of her window, and placing a piece of parchment under her door. Someone noticed the odd placement and sounded the alarm. Since then, the siblings came up with numerous ways to communicate with each in the least conspicuous ways possible; one of them being hanging a sheet outside your window if you were in danger.

"Do you think they threw the snowballs?" Lucy whispered. "To get our attention."

"Why else would they have thrown them?" he whispered back.

Lucy was unconvinced. While it was entirely like her siblings to throw snowballs at each other, it wasn't like them to do so while in trouble. The snowballs were thrown too close together. Peter and Susan would not waste time trying to get help if it could be used to get out of the situation. Neither would leave the other if trouble was afoot either. Something was not right.

Lucy glanced at her brother, hoping his mind was going in the same direction as hers was. Knowing Edmund, though, it probably went there and back again; he was smart after all.

Edmund pulled on her arm, mentally telling her they were going to run for it. Lucy nodded but held one finger, asking for a moment. She felt along her thigh and pulled her dagger out of its sheath. Her brother raised his eyebrows and gave her a small smile, but didn't comment. He looked around again, and, seeing no one, nodded to his sister, who mentally started to count to three. Once she reached to three, Edmund – who had mentally counted to three also – jumped over the fort and started sprinting toward the castle with Lucy directly behind him.

As they ran, the two didn't pass a single soul. Lucy would have preferred to see a giant army or something. At least that would have answered a few questions.

Edmund signaled for her to get behind him when they reached Peter's double door locked chambers. Lucy rolled her eyes, thinking that was ridiculous; _She_ was the one with a weapon after all. She did as he asked, though, knowing it was easier than arguing. Slowly, Edmund placed his ear between the cracks in the door, listening. Lucy raised an eyebrow.

"You're not going to hear anything," she whispered barely making a sound. The doors were made from oak and were thick.

Edmund waved a hand dismissively at her. She rolled her eyes. He tested the handle to see if the door would open.

It didn't.

Lucy backed up, ready to run into the doors to break them down. It didn't matter if _one_ of those doors weighed more than her, she would make them open through sheer _force of will_. Her siblings were in there for Aslan's sake. She started running but Edmund held her back, looking at her as if she were insane. He held up his lock picking kit as explanation. Lucy glared at him. He didn't wear a weapon but he had his _lock picking kit_! Unbelievable!

She stepped back, letting him pick the lock, fuming the entire time. A loud _click_ filled the air, and they both froze, Lucy with her dagger at ready, waiting to see if someone came out.

No one did, and they breathed again.

_Stay behind me_, Edmund mouthed at her. Lucy nodded.

He gripped the handles in his hands, taking a deep breath, and Lucy was about to punch him in the back, when he shoved the doors open with all of this might. He sauntered in as if he hadn't a care in the world, with Lucy as his tiny shadow.

They took in the scene before them. Peter and Susan were tied to chairs on separate ends of the room, with a knife at each of their throats. The people, or _creatures_ more like, were enormous, hairy, with thick fangs, and a nasty stench. Lucy couldn't help but scrunch her nose at it. Edmund coughed.

"Hallo Peter, Susan, a miracle you two aren't knocked out yet, what with the stench and all," said Edmund nonchalantly.

Lucy gave a silent sigh and rubbed her forehead, trying to remind herself Edmund _knew_ what he was doing. Most likely anyway.

"You're early," said Susan quietly. "We didn't expect you for another twenty minutes."

"Well, I would have come looking for you before that**,** I assure you," he smiled at her Susan before turning his attention to the creature – an ogre Lucy was almost certain – that was holding a knife to Peter.

"Now, forgive me," he continued with such ease that he might as well have been at dinner with his siblings. "But I am a bit confused as to what happened. It's not everyday that the _High King's_ chambers are penetrated let alone held _captive;_ quite an accomplishment that. And Queen Susan as well, double the prize I take it."

The ogre holding Peter lessened his grip ever so slightly on Peter, while staring suspiciously at Edmund. When he – at least Lucy was pretty sure it was a he. The ogre didn't look all that feminine – didn't immediately begin telling his tale, Edmund continued talking.

"Or is money not the motive? Personal gratification perhaps? It must be a strong reason for you to go so far. I mean," he chuckled to himself, "it's not exactly _easy_ to get up here undetected, especially for someone of your...physique. You must have had help, or simply dumb luck? Which is it, ol' boy?"

The ogre, who didn't seem to appreciate being called _ol' boy_, sneered at Edmund with heavy disdain.

"Pretty words, Son of Adam," the ogre stated with what Lucy thought was a condescending tone.

"Why thank you**.** I do try."

"You would like to know how we came here to the..._High King's_ chambers?"

"Well, yes, I do recall asking that. I know my royal brother would prefer to die, knowing what he did wrong **–** otherwise it would plague him**,** even in death."

Lucy nudged her brother lightly in the back; the last thing they needed to do was give the ogre _more_ reason for killing Peter. Or Susan. Or anyone really.

The ogre smiled a horrible smile that caused Lucy to shiver. He pulled Peter's head back by his golden hair, and stared at him.

Edmund quickly gestured behind his back to Lucy. She knew what to do.

"Would it human king? Would it _plague you even in death_?" the ogre sneered.

Peter looked at the ogre as if he were an insignificant insect.

"I don't see how anything _you_ do _could_ plague me," he said coolly.

Edmund looked as if he wanted to smack Peter across the head.

"We'll see," replied the ogre.

"I'm not sure we will," continued Edmund, looking at Susan and her ogre carefully. "As fun as all of this has been, I am afraid it must come to an end**,** as all things have a tendency to do. You see, that _is_ my brother and sister you have here, and, for _some_ reason that escapes me at the moment, I don't _actually_ want to see them die. So..." He shrugged.

The ogres laughed.

"_You_, a scrawny Son of Adam with no weapon, think you could beat _us? _We'll crush your bones with one swipe of our hands!"

Edmund stared at them coolly.

"I didn't say it was _me_ you had to worry about." He pointed to behind the ogre, who turned around to see Lucy holding her dagger and leaning against Peter's desk. She waved.

"Hi," she said as she placed her weight against the desk and shoved the ogre with all of the power her legs had. He fell over, and stood back up with a roar only to have Lucy's dagger land neatly in its neck.

Meanwhile, Susan slammed the back of her head into the other ogre's and Edmund ran to tackle it. He slammed its head into the ground, disorienting it. The ogre roared in Edmund's face, and the boy coughed with a disguised and dazed expression. Peter, having been untied thanks to Lucy and her dagger, rushed to help his brother while Lucy untied Susan. The High King stomped on the ogre's face, and pulled Edmund off him.

"You alright?" Peter asked him.

Edmund coughed, shook his head, and nodded.

"And here I thought _your_ morning breath was bad," he said.

Peter punched him in the arm.

"Su?" he asked.

"Alright, except for some chaffing."

"Lu?"

"Perfectly swell."

Peter nodded and looked at the ogre.

"Is it dead?" Susan asked, joining him.

"At the very least it's knocked out," said Edmund. "You can check if you like."

Susan stared at him dully.

"I have a question," said Lucy. "Why were there snowballs? That wasn't you, right?"

Peter shook his head.

"It was them; they needed to get your attention."

"So they used _snowballs_," said Edmund incredulously. "By the lion at the very least make Susan scream or something! _Snowballs_! Pshaw!"

"And why should _I _be the one to scream?"

"Because if Peter screamed I would die on the spot due to laughter. Or a heart attack from shock. Whichever came first."

"Ed," said Peter.

"Just saying."

"And you put in the sheet out the window?" Lucy asked looking at Susan who nodded.

"I came just in time to see the ogres fighting with Peter. I took the sheet, threw it out the window, and started helping him."

"Good job with that," mumbled Edmund sarcastically.

"Shut. It," ordered Susan darkly.

"They weren't alone, though," said Peter. "They _couldn't_ have gotten in here without help."

"There was no one outside," said Lucy. "It was eerie."

Peter and Susan glanced at each other.

"Didn't they mention hags?" Susan asked.

Peter nodded.

"Now if you were a hag, where would you be?" Peter wondered aloud.

"I don't know Su, where would you be?" Edmund asked with a smirk.

"You are _not_ getting anything for Christmas _or _your birthday," Susan promised.

"I just saved your life. I am _allowed_ to tease you."

"Too late!"

Edmund scowled.

"Stuff it! The pair of you!" Peter shouted. "We have a _bit_ of an emergency on our hands, so if you _wouldn't_ _mind_, giving me a _few precious moments_ of your _oh so important_ lives, so we can figure out what to do! Thank you!"

Susan and Edmund glanced at him in shock and at each other in confusion. They muttered to each other, Lucy caught several **"**_what got his knickers in a twist__**"**_ and **"**_just trying to defuse the tension__**"**_remarks.

"What do you want to do**,** Peter?" Lucy asked him, hoping the vein in his forehead would go back into his head. He sighed and smiled gratefully at his youngest sister.

"There was no one outside, you say," he said.

Lucy nodded.

"Even as we ran up here, we didn't see anyone."

Peter frowned.

Edmund opened his mouth and Susan slapped her hand over it. He glared at her.

"Let's walk and think," suggested Susan, wiping her hand on her gown. "We're not going to find the hags in here."

Peter nodded, grabbed Rhindon, handed Susan a long dagger, and Edmund an extra sword, and lead his siblings out in the hall.

"Did either of you notice anything else?" Peter asked the younger two.

Both of them said they hadn't.

They walked down the corridor, each looking in various directions for any sign of life or hags. The monarchs didn't find any until...

"Wait," whispered Susan. "Look at this." She pointed at a dripping mark on the wall. It was thick, liquid like, and purple though the drips were an orange color.

Peter reached out and touched it, and smelled it.

"Are you going to taste it too?" Edmund asked.

Peter ignored him.

"Hag blood?" he suggests looking at his family and resting on his brother's face.

"Why are you looking at me? Do I _look_ like I know what hag looks like?" he asked.

"Look," said Lucy gesturing down the corridor where more dripping marks appeared.

Peter shook his head, wiped the liquid off his hand with Edmund's tunic, and continued following the marks.

The marks lead them into the throne room, and the four stopped directly outside of it, looking in. Inside a group of seven hags sat in a circle, chanting in a tongue none of them understood.

"This is what I get for sleeping," mumbled Peter.

Edmund and Susan glared at him.

"No this is what you get for over sleeping, which only happens when you _don't_ sleep enough –"

"Which only happens when you over work yourself. _So_..."

"This is what you get..."

"_For doing everything yourself,_" Susan and Edmund finished fiercely together.

Peter blinked at them, surprised at their outburst. Lucy sighed, tugged on Susan's arm. Lucy gestured to the center of the hag circle, where a glowing circle was. Susan nodded, twirling Peter's long dagger expertly in her hand. She threw it, and it landed perfectly at the edge of the circle, breaking it. A bright light engulfed the room, causing the Pevensies to flinch back, and the hags to scream and yell. A horrible ripping sound filled the air, and when it finished, the light went away, and everything was still. They looked back in the throne room and saw that the hags were gone, and servants were cleaning the windows as if nothing had happened.

There was a moment of silence.

"You know, these White Witch's army survivors are _really _starting to grate on my nerves," said Peter.

"They are _just_ starting to bother you?" Lucy asked, surprised.

"I just feel the need to point out that _none_ of this would have happened if you had woken up Peter when I told you to," said Edmund to Susan.

"_Honestly_," replied Susan. "_Coal_ is your present this year. Coal covered with _hag's blood_."

Peter and Lucy laughed as Edmund opened his mouth to retort.

**The End**


End file.
